Don't Forget Me
by XelixAhture
Summary: Six never considered herself to be important, but now she finds herself tugged into too many dangers and suddenly she's the most influential force in the Mojave. Can she really help everyone? Or will she lose even the man she cares about as she forgets both her past and her present memories while facing the damaging effects of two bullets to the head? (Better That You Don't-Take 2)
1. Chapter 1: Wake Me Up

**So I had started this story once before, but I felt like it was going nowhere for such a long time. A reviewer recommended an overhaul and I completely agreed. So here we are with a different version of my story with more character development and more interactions. It's also a lot more organized now too! Also, many thanks Tom-Ato13, for giving me the little push I needed. I really appreciate your honesty and I hope that you are reading this now and let me know how I'm doing with this version of the story! I'm excited for what I have planned and I hope that you guys enjoy! (I'm open to suggestions and also critique, by the way. So please send in either/both!)**

**(Also I changed the point-of-view. Haha.)**

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_I looked into his dark eyes, his face seemingly blank. I desperately searched his face for emotion, any emotions at all, as my own spiraled out of control. The guards stood at his side, not meeting my eyes. All I saw was that moment, frozen like a picture. His lips didn't even seem to move when he talked in that horribly silky, masculine voice of his. I hated him._

_"…must seem like an eighteen-karat run of bad luck…"_

The loud explosion jolted me awake and I lay alert in bed. I felt a horrible ringing in my skull and I let out a loud hiss of pain. My eyes were wide open and the dim room swayed before me as I looked around frantically. A sound of footsteps had me jerking my head in their direction, watching a figure slowly come into focus as my vision blurred and danced about as if my eyes were rolling in my head, loosened from the explosion.

"You're awake." His voice sounded both impressed and relieved at the same time. "Hell of a shot you took," He explained as he sat himself in a chair in front of me. "You've been out for a few days now."

I studied his face, confused. Who was he? Where was I? A shot? Had I been out drunk? I tried sitting upright and my head gave a slight twinge. No. It wasn't that kind of shot. I chided myself for being so stupid as I lightly brushed my injury with my fingertips, feeling stitches mixed with crusted blood and prickles of shaved hair.

"Easy there. Easy," soothed the man. "Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings. Let's see what the damage is," He muttered, the last part seeming to be mostly to himself. "How about your name? Can you tell me your name?"

"My name?" My voice came out a croak. I cleared my throat and tried a second time, pleased when my voice came out stronger.

"That's right," he answered. "Tell me your name."

"Its..." My mind couldn't fish anything up. I hesitated, not being able to identify any string of letters to my identity. I blurted the first name that came to mind, just to satisfy him. I didn't even know if it was a real name.

He chuckled lightly, his voice soft and kind. "Well, that's not what I'd have picked for you, but if that's your name, that's your name. I'm doc Mitchell. Welcome to Good Springs." His warm attitude made me like him instantly.

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The sun outside was blinding and my head didn't thank me one bit for not wearing sunglasses. I made a note to acquire some as I stepped down the hill that the Doc Mitchel's house sat atop.

I got a few yards from the house and stopped. I scanned the area. There were houses lined with broken down fences and some strange animals ambled about grazing on the sparse vegetation. Several settlers moved about casually, tending to their dying crops and checking on their livestock. A few of them cast surprised glances at me.

A light wind was tossing my jet black hair about. I'd used the bathroom in Doc Mitchel's house, (at least I still remembered how to do _that_) and had caught sight of my face for the first time. I had dark, arched eyebrows with angular, slanted eyes and my jaw contradicted my features with its square outline. My face was some mix match of different features, or so it seemed to me. The whole thing was topped off with a mess of black pin straight hair, poofed out at the roots by nature's way of creating extreme, unmanageable volume.

I sighed, tugging on the locks, feeling sweat bead up on the back of my neck already. I'd have to cut it off sometime. I already had a shaved patch by my temple where the Doc had to get better access to my wound. I briefly pondered what sort of hair style I could make out of it when I realized that it was such a trivial thought. I focused instead on finding a place in the shade to sit.

I uprooted my feet from their spot in the Doc's yard and made my way towards the only two brown buildings that I could see. I noticed that they both had signs on the front, and for some reason that made me assume that they were public buildings, inviting people in with their brief words of advertisement painted or built on their fronts. The first building I came to was called the Goodsprings General Store. I noticed a drop box labeled "Mojave Express" and let my fingers wander over it's flaking blue paint. I took a peek inside and was greeted with nothing. Biting my lip, I glanced about and made my way to the next place. For some reason it sounded more inviting. The Prospector Saloon. I didn't know how I knew it, but I figured that stores typically didn't accept loiterers as easily as a saloon. Even though business was business to both types. I picked at a loose thread on my armor and fidgeted as I rounded the corner of the saloon and stepped up onto the deck.

I didn't even need to enter the saloon to find myself a place to sit. Tucked under an overhanging porch, a few chairs sat lined up neatly against the wall. A man occupied one of them, and I sat myself in a different one, awkwardly fiddling with my new Pipboy. I glanced at the man and he simply nodded a greeting before leaning back in his chair and lazily staring out into the horizon. I found myself put at ease with this non-invasive exchange and I relaxed enough to examine everything I had, from my strange armored 13 jumpsuit to the leather armor that I currently wore, to every detail of the pipboy.

I had no clue where any of it came from, but I tried to make sense of it nonetheless. Especially since my belongings might say something about me.

When I figured out nothing about myself, not even a name, I cradled my head in my hands and began to let myself slip out of denial.

I didn't know who I was.

I had kept making up stories to attempt to soothe my mind but none of them seemed right. Maybe I'd been a Vaut 13 Dweller. Maybe I'd been a tribal and that's why I carried the armor. Maybe I'd just been a courier all my life. How old was I? Did I have a family?

I forced myself to breath evenly and pulled out a dry package of noodles that I had on me from before I was shot. I began nibbling at it, trying to keep myself calm. I stared out at what was in front of me and it didn't bring my hopes up. There was a pile of broken timber scattered where a house once was. I bit my lip, trying not to allow negative thoughts into my mind.

After a surge of irritation at my pitiful state, I began pressing knobs on my pipboy until I found the note-keeper screen and began jotting things down that I did seem to know. _I knew how to..._ I refrained from writing that I knew how to use the bathroom and instead wrote: _I know how to take care of my person._

Thinking as hard as I could, I found a few other things buried in my brain. _I know how to read. I know how to write. The Doc says I'm pretty smart. I understand basic logic. I seem to have common sense. I'm a courier for the Mojave Express (Courier Six to be exact)._

Soon the list again came full circle back to who I was, but I continued it anyway.

_I think I know a little history about the world. I know this is a post apocalyptic world where the majority of the people were saved by vaults or luck. I understand that technology exists for various purposes in various forms such as a robot, this pipboy, or a computer terminal. I understand the value of work and money. I understand basic education and its purposes._

A few minutes later, the document that I had created had grown large enough to lift my spirits some, especially since some of it surprised me. Where had I learned to read anyway? I glanced at the man sitting near me, he didn't seem too concerned as to what I was doing. I waved slightly as I stood up and finally went to enter the saloon.

My pipboy read the time as being 4 in the afternoon, so I didn't expect the saloon to be filled. People didn't typically drink this early in the day, right? I made a quick note of that as well.

When I opened the door in front of me, I was greeted by a sharp bark from a canine and the immediate response from it's owner. "Cheyenne, stay." The woman turned to me, a smile on her face. "Don't worry, she won't bite unless I tell her to." The soft lilt in her voice and the spunky confidence in her voice as she added the last five words made me automatically like her. "I'm Sunny Smiles."

"Hi," I beamed. "I'm Six." This time I remembered the fake name I gave, and it seemed to fit. "Courier Six."

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**Not much happening, but I promise you, there will be lots happening. I'm not sure when I'll update next, but I hope for it to be very soon! Let me know what you think of my courier!**


	2. Chapter 2: I Saved the Life of Ringo

**Hey guys! So this is Chapter 2. Here I introduce Ringooooooo. The chapter title is in reference to a song by Lorne Greene. It's seriously a good song, idk why I like it. I was having such a hard time not singing the song every time I typed his fucking name. Haha. But in all seriousness. He's seriously really cool even though he's such a brief character. Leave me alone. There's also more character development here too with Six and her weird quirks. And for the Boone fans, he's set to come up in chapter 5 or 6. Maaaaaybe even 7, depending on how much I squish into these next chapters. But don't worry, getting him into the story is one of my top priorities!**

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I swept my hair back out of my face as I made my way towards the gas station for the night. I had told Ringo that he had to share with me whether he wanted to or not. I told him that since I was working in the town and he was just lurking in the town, it was only fair. He didn't really argue, and he seemed to like my attitude. So far we got along pretty well.

I chose the gas station because no one was really using it, except for a temporary hide out. However, after that it'd be empty again anyway. It was better than mooching off of someone else.

I had found ways to make my own money and help out around the town. People were starting to warm up to me pretty quickly. I spent my mornings with Sunny, making our rounds: hunting, gathering, stuff like that. She usually got miffed when I'd stop every so often to pick up random junk to sell. Apparently prospecting was just in my nature. When I seen things that looked somewhat valuable, I had to take them with me, just to sell. I'd even found a large duffel bag to heft my loot around.

After I was done with my morning scavenging, I typically made my way to Doc Mitchell's place to help out with any patients that he had, or just cleaning up his place. I didn't have the caps to repay him properly, so I helped out whenever I could, learning some useful medical skills along the way. So far most of it was just for shallow injuries, nothing serious. There were no bullet wounds, just bites from geckos. Those things only pissed me off as they seemed to run wherever I went with their mouths agape, as if they were ready to bite me and happy about it.

In my evenings, I escorted a herd of Bighorners to the water source for an old lady who was getting too weary to do it herself. I had to shoot down geckos to keep them from spooking the younger Bighorners, but there were a couple of the animals that would take care of themselves, which made this easy work. Besides, the Bighorners were gentle and made wonderful friends. They didn't judge me, they didn't tease me, they never questioned my behavior and they never shot me in the head. I smiled at my thoughts. They made perfect friends.

I had just gotten back from walking them home to their pen. My payment for helping was always a nice warm meal that the old lady cooked for me. I had it set here in this little town. I had everything I needed: a place to sleep, one meal guaranteed every day, company, and hobbies that kept me occupied. I had found a nice little place to settle down in. For some reason, I didn't really see any reason to leave anywhere. I was fine sticking around here.

I was yanked out of my thoughts by a loud, harsh voice.

"Hey, I just thought that I ought to tell you," Joe Cobb sneered from behind me. "That I know that you're keeping Ringo in that gas station of yours."

I turned to look him dead in the eye. He had two other men with him. I figured that Ringo would help out if he seen me getting shot from the window and that boosted my confidence. "Actually," I countered, trying to put on my best Trudy-attitude. "This is just my home."

"I know he's in there. And if you don't want me to blow this place sky high, you're going to hand him over."

"Well, I can't, because he's not in there." I crossed one arm over my stomach and fiddled with my hair with my free hand.

"I'm not leaving until I'm sure." He jerked his head towards the station and his lackeys tried to circle around me as if to enter.

I pulled my gun out. "No," I growled clicking off the safety for effect. The two other men with Cobb gave each other looks. "You can't just walk into my home because you feel like you want to. You don't own this place."

"Now that tells me that Ringo really is inside." Cobb had started to piss me off by now with his low, forceful voice, loud despite how close he was to me.

"No, this tells you that you weren't invited into my home and I don't want you in at all." His face morphed into an even more angry expression. "You'd break shit or steal shit. You're not welcome in my home, especially with the way you treat me and this town."

This time all three men gave each other looks and then their eyes were on me again.

I aimed the rifle at Cobb's head. "Get out of my yard."

Cobb stared at me for a hesitating moment and then narrowed his eyes. "Let's go. I'm not going to waste my time with this slut."

They turned to leave and I sighed, relieved that I didn't have to shoot anyone.

Lowering my rifle, I turned and opened the door.

Ringo was sitting behind a shelf with his pistol at the ready. I grinned and waved my hand at him, letting him know that everything was okay. He lowered his pistol and let out a sigh of relief, his head sagging on his shoulders. "I was worried that they'd shoot you."

"Then why didn't you come out to save me?" I asked with wide mock-horror-filled eyes.

Stunned, his mouth hung open for a second and after a long pause he shrugged and looked away.

I punched him in the shoulder. "Ass."

He gave me another stunned look and I let out a bubbly stream of giggles.

He chuckled, not sure how to respond. "So how was your day?"

I shrugged as I made my way behind the counter to where our beds were. "Uneventful. Geckos tried to get the calves, but I shot them. You know."

I stashed my scavenged treasures in the safe and peeled off the top layer of my armor.

I stood in only my tanktop and leggings. "Wait… do you think I should have left that on? In case Cobb's waiting out there?"

"You're going out?" Ringo placed a hand on the counter and leaned against it.

I glanced at his suspenders for some reason. Would I look good in suspenders? I gave him a smile. "I might go out. I'd hoped to go visit Sunny."

"You see her a few times every day." He stated, incredulously.

I shrugged. "If you got out every now and then, you could hang out with us."

He laughed. "I'm not going to leave too often. Last thing I need is to be sniped for going for a drink."

I smiled, shrugging again.

"You should be careful too. If he thinks you're hiding me…"

I nodded. "What are you going to do anyway?" I placed my hands on the edge of the counter opposite him and leaned on it too. "You can't hide forever. This time he brought others with him. I'm pretty glad he didn't shoot me, but he could have." His eyes darted away from mine. "Other people could get involved."

"I know." The voice he used was low and rather irritated. He stood up straight and took a few steps away.

"I could help you." My voice came out softer than I expected.

He turned to look at me as he leaned his back against one of the shelves. "You and me? I don't think that we'd be much of a match for all of the Powder Gangers."

"I'd bet anything that Sunny would be willing to help." I sat myself on the counter top.

"She has been nicer than most," He muttered. "It's only a matter of time until everyone wants to throw me to the dogs and be rid of me."

"If they want this situation to be over, I'm sure that they'll be willing to help to get it over quicker and to be one-hundred percent sure that the Powder Gangers will never be back to do any more damage." I swung my legs over the counter top, placing my hands on the edge in front of me and leaned forward, spilling my ideas aloud. "I mean, they were threatening Trudy if she didn't hand you over. She told them to get lost. Well, Cobb anyway. Everyone looks up to Trudy…" I jumped off of the counter, landing unsteadily on my feet. "I'm going to the Saloon." I grinned, slinking towards the door.

Ringo stared incredulously at me as I darted out of the gas station and offered a little wave before I left.

My mind seemed to hum with excitement. I had made up my mind and would make my decision happen. For some reason, the even with Cobb seemed mostly forgotten.

I trotted down the hill and made my way towards the saloon.

Getting Trudy's and Sunny's help was easy. Trudy liked me, and she got everyone else together. We would be ready if Cobb showed up again with more men and went through with his previous threats.

Sunny even gave me the idea to convince Chet to hand over some armor.

I exited the Saloon and made my way towards the General Store. But something stopped me.

I looked at the gap between the two buildings. I thought I heard someone talking to me.

"You know kitty, you're really pretty gorgeous," Came the voice. It seemed familiar.

I took a step closer. Who was there? The sky had gotten darker in all the time I had taken talking to the people in the saloon and I couldn't see properly.

The voice seemed to come from everywhere. "What's your name anyway?"

"It's Six," I answered automatically, still walking closer passing the work tools on my way.

"I wish I had met you sooner baby." Then I saw him. He was wearing the same fucking checkered suit and he had the same fucking perfect hair and endearing smile.

"Get the fuck away from me." I backed into the wall of the General Store. I reached for my pistol. I had left it at the gas station…

"You know…" He continued. His approach was slow and measured. His smile was gone and his face had gone stone cold. "It's such a shame. You and I could have had such a better relationship and the like. You're exactly the kind of cat I'd swing with. But…" I felt him slam me against the wall. "You're swinging with House right now." His voice dropped to a growl. "And that's something I can't dig."

And suddenly he was gone.

I collapsed to the ground. Sweat had beaded up on my brow and my breath had become uneven. Had I imagined him? _I think the proper word would be **hallucinated, **Six._ I silently chided myself. I leaned my head against the wall of the building behind me. I had _felt_ him grab me and shove me against the wall. I had felt his breath on my ear. I'd noticed every detail, right down to the way he smelled almost good despite that he had dirt on his suit.

I shivered. Was I having a flashback? Is this where it started? I got up in a rush and scrambled to the main road of town. I took one look back and ran for the gas station.

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**So, Six has a few mood swings and doesn't have an exact grasp on reality since getting shot. Other things too. But, I hope that I'm expressing this concept properly. It took me so long to finish this chapter... Let me know what you guys think! :3**


	3. Chapter 3: Peace Can't Last

**This chapter was so hard to write. I don't know why, but it kept throwing me for a loop. Eventually I had to just sit down and write it. Thankfully though, I had Tom-Ato13 helping me out, quite a bit. I super appreciate it Tom! Anyway, this chapter is a little longer than usual, so enjoy c:**

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_The sun had gone down a little while ago and the sky was fading to a grey-blue. I was walking alone on the main road of Good Springs. It was a tiny town that I'd never visited before. My first impression of it was that it was like every other half-destroyed abandoned settlement I'd come across in my travels. But it wasn't abandoned. And only a couple of the buildings were completely destroyed. I had seen an ad for it along the road. It had said, "Have a Sunny Day in Good Springs." And then someone had drawn graffiti on it too. I hoped that it really was a nice place like it claimed to be. That would make a nice start to this delivery. I just needed to find a place to stay. I decided to try the saloon first._

_I ran my fingers through my thick pony tail and let out a loud breath before I suddenly heard someone._

_"Hey there, doll."_

_I turned to see who the speaker was._

_He was a tall man with smooth skin and dark, carefully styled hair. His eyebrows were raised slightly and he wore a wolfish grin and a checkered suit. His expression made me think he knew something that I didn't._

_"Uh," I offered, chewing on my inner-lip. "Hi… doll." I smiled tentatively._

_He returned my smile "I think you're just the cat I'm looking for." He had an odd way of speaking, but his voice was low and pleasant. Although, I couldn't quite figure out what I liked about it._

_"Meow," I muttered, snickering. I wasn't in the mood to be boring and serious._

_He laughed at my reaction. It was a laugh that was full of surprise, genuine amusement, and charm._

_"I'd make another cat reference, but I can't think of any." I shrugged._

_"Baby, that one was already too much." The grin stayed on his face._

_"Hey, I've got the jokes." I grinned back, looking at my nails, feigning a casual attitude and pretending to gloat._

_"You're definitely not what I expected."_

_"That's why you shouldn't expect anything out of anyone." I was repeating something my mother had told me, but I wasn't good at coming up with responses. "Then they can't disappoint you."_

_"You're not disappointing," He promised. "The circumstances are."_

_"Pardon?" I raised an eyebrow._

_Shaking his head, he stepped closer. I didn't back down, but my cheeks heated. He put an arm around my shoulders and led me to the side of the road, between the saloon and the general store. He sat himself on the work bench after shoving aside all of the tools carelessly. I chose to lean against it instead._

_"So I'm just the cat you're looking for, huh?" I inquired._

_He chuckled. "I think so."_

_"You think so?" I kept up my spunky attitude. It was nice to talk to someone after a long time on the road. I had just gotten into town, so I hadn't had the chance until now. I didn't want to spoil the pleasant conversation, but I asked anyway, "Why? What do you want from me?"_

_He shrugged and hesitated for a moment before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up. "You want one babe?"_

_I shook my head. I hated the grating feeling of smoke into my lungs. "I don't smoke. But thanks." I had the feeling that this meeting was intended, but I just waited for him to explain himself, rather than being demanding._

_"You ever been to the Strip?" He asked, trying to make pleasant conversation._

_I shook my head. "I was excited to go there soon though. I've got a job there."_

_He nodded as if he already knew this. Not everything there is as great as it sounds. And some of the people from there aren't the greatest either."_

_"Where are you from?"_

_"The Strip."_

_We both smiled._

The sun was flitting through the half-boarded up windows of the gas station. The rays fell gently onto my eyelids and coaxed me awake. My body felt almost numb, and I didn't want to move at first. My dream was still playing in my head and I kept hearing Benny's laugh. I kept hearing how genuine it sounded and how he seemed to be almost sincere while talking with me. It seemed so real. Just like last night's vision in the ally.

I pondered it for a little while longer before blinking my eyes hard and sitting up. It was just a dream. My mind's way of telling me that I wish it hadn't happened. Of course it had seemed real, it was a dream. Even when you start flying, you still think it's real until you wake up and know better.

I sighed.

I was sleeping in my usual spot behind the counter and out of sight of the door. Ringo had slept here at first, but we traded eventually. I think it was because he was somewhat sexist and thought that a woman should be protected and it was his job to make sure of it. I rolled my eyes.

He was laying a little ways away, tucked in the back corner between the last row of shelves and the far right wall. We were both out of immediate sight to anyone who might enter the station while we slept. Thankfully no one had.

It seemed like it should be odd, staying with a man I barely knew. I shouldn't be so easy to trust after what Benny did. But it's not like everyone did that sort of thing. I stretched and yawned, waking myself up further. I slid out from under the blanket.

If I lived in fear, would it even be worth it to live?

I bit my lip and stood up. I knew I was afraid. Not of Ringo or other strangers, but of dying. I could have lost everything. No one knows exactly why they want to live; it's just something that we want. For the most part. I definitely knew that I wanted to stay alive to be happy, at least.

I shook my head. My thoughts were confused enough. No sense in complicating them further.

Slipping on my boots, I glanced at Ringo's sleeping form and left the gas station.

The sun outside was a lot harsher than I had anticipated, and I scrunched my eyes shut, waiting for my pupils to adjust.

I made my way to Doc Mitchell's place and politely knocked on the door.

He answered after a moment and upon seeing me, smiled and stepped aside for me to enter after a casual greeting.

"How're you doing Doc?" I asked, rubbing my eyes as they were forced to adjust again, this time to the dim electrical light that the Doc used to illuminate his house.

"Oh, alright. No one's come in hurt yet, so I've had a mostly quiet morning."

I nodded, my mind a little impatient for formalities. I inhaled and started it off with a simple phrase. "I wanted to ask you a few things, Doc."

"Let's go into the other room, my legs ain't what they used to be."

I followed him and we sat on the sofa, like we had when I'd first woken up. I nibbled on my nail.

"What was it that you wanted to ask?" He lit up a cigarette. It was somewhat ironic, considering he was a doctor.

"I wanted to ask…" I wasn't sure what I wanted to ask. The dream about Benny and the vision about him the night before confused me. I wanted to know about them, but I didn't know how to say it. "Could you tell me about head injuries? What they could do to people?"

"Well," He said slowly and thoughtfully. "When they don't kill people, they could cause some serious damage. Someone might not be able to think clearly. They might lose some memories. They could lose some thought processes or the ability to connect their thoughts clearly with their body or voice. Sometimes they get their senses confused. It's never very clear. The brain controls everything. There's no telling what could go wrong. But the brain is also an amazing thing and has many ways of repairing itself. Is there something bothering you?"

I nodded, still biting my nail. "I thought… I thought I seen Benny last night. Except, I think it was from the night that he shot me. It was like a vision. It was so clear. And then I had a dream about that night again last night. Except, it was from when we first met here, before he shot me."

"I'd say that it's just from the stress of the event. You don't know yet how to comprehend what happened, and you're brain's having trouble making sense of it. I know you're not loose in the head, so I'd say it's just something that you need to work out and give it time."

I nodded. Those weren't the answers that I was looking for. Something about the vision seemed wrong.

Suddenly someone knocked on the Doc's door and then flung it open.

We both jumped in surprise.

"Six?!" Someone called, stomping down the hall. "The Powder Gangers are coming. We've got to get ready."

"How many are there?" I demanded, standing up.

It was one of the settlers. A teenage boy I didn't know well. "I don't know. A lot."

I cast a look at the Doc and waved before running outside. The sun hit me hard again but I ignored it. "Where's Ringo?"

"Still in the gas station."

"Alright. I have to go get my gun anyway." The kid nodded and took off running.

I made my own way towards the gas station, cursing myself for forgetting my gun for the second time in twenty four hours. I burst into the station, causing Ringo to cry in surprise. I darted for my gear behind the counter and began tugging on my armor. I should have left that on too.

"The Powder Gangers are on their way," I panted as I fumbled with my armor.

I heard Ringo scramble up. I guessed that I had awakened him. My heart pounded as I shoved bullets into my pocket, dropping some onto the floor as I did so. When I was finished, I turned and met Ringo's eyes. He clicked the safety off of his gun calmly and the gesture soothed me a little. I took a deep breath.

"Let's go."

Outside, the shooting had already started. I heard each shot ring out as if it was right next to me. My mind kept supplying me with images of Benny pointing his gun at me and each gunshot I heard made me cringe. I aimed my revolver at one of the Powder Gangers. I'd never killed a person before. I hesitated. They fell.

Someone else had hit them and I'd been useless. I gulped and bounded down the hill and closer to the fray. I glanced beside me to see Ringo racing ahead of me, firing while running, with all the confidence and bravado that I wish I felt. I skidded to a stop and tried a different approach. I stopped behind a sign post and crouched on one knee. Joe Cobb was still alive, wearing a bullet proof vest and reloading his gun behind a large boulder. I sucked in a breath and aimed. I squeezed the trigger. He fell. I imagined a gecko falling.

I pointed my gun to another target, a man without a shirt who was holding a club above his head, running towards the townsfolk. He had no armor. He didn't even have a long distance weapon. He was practically defenseless. I pressed my lips together and took aim. Then I did something stupid. I closed my eyes and fired. I opened them again. The man was on the ground and I tried to pretend that it wasn't me who'd shot him. I attempted to find another target but they fell right as I locked my eyes on them.

There were only two more men. Both of them were hiding behind a cluster of boulders, glancing frantically about. I aimed.

I couldn't do it. They weren't even trying to attack. They were hiding. Another shot sounded. Then another.

I watched as both of them hit the ground and I felt my stomach clench.

Sunny lowered her gun once as she was sure the two men were dead. She backed away from the rock cluster and looked around.

Everyone seemed to have this lost look on their face, as if the end of the battle surprised them.

I stood, my legs tingling a little. I raked my eyes over the road. There was Cobb, a pool of blood by his head. There was the other man that I had shot, several feet away from the actual battle. There was never any point in him participating. He had no armor, no weapon that could challenge a gun, and no chance of survival. I forced my eyes away from him and noted the other bodies lying around. None of them were any that I recognized.

My gaze found Ringo, Sunny again, Trudy, a few farmers I didn't really know, and even Cheyenne. It looked like everyone was okay.

I made my way unsteadily over to everyone else.

"Well, if it isn't the sniper," Trudy greeted me, her voice completely normal and steady. "I saw you stop a ways away and it worried me a little. Then I saw you take out Cobb. That was some nice shooting."

I offered a thin-lipped smile. "Is everyone okay?"

"I think so," Sunny answered me, looking around. "Ringo got hit in the arm though. You might want to take a look at it."

I nodded once and put my revolver back on my belt. Then I made my way to where Ringo was sitting in the dust, cradling his arm.

He looked up and grinned at me, his eyes shining. "I can't believe it. We did it."

"Yay," I muttered. "We took away people's lives."

"You okay?" He asked with his excitement fading.

"I dunno. It's different killing geckos." I kneeled beside him, pulling up his sleeve to expose the wound.

"You've never killed anyone before?"

I shrugged.

"When you're out in the wasteland, you have to protect yourself."

"But it's not defense when they only have a bat and no armor while we've all got armor and guns." The wound was shallow but I still didn't have any proper tools with me. The bullet was still embedded into the skin, just barely, but it had to come out.

"Six," He argued. "They attacked us."

"Because they were told to. Because they had to." I inspected the wound, twisting his arm to get a better look, not realizing that I should be more careful.

He grunted in pain, gritting his teeth.

"Sorry," I muttered. I then pulled out my knife and gently maneuvered the bullet with the blade and my fingers until I could catch the bullet at the right angle and finally pry it out.

Ringo let out a breath. "Shit." The bullet made a quiet thump as it landed in the dirt.

"You should go rinse this and tie a bandage around it as tight as you can stand. It's not too serious though."

He nodded, examining the shallow hole with his own eyes. "It hurts. And you didn't help much with that bit."

I shrugged. "I've never treated bullet wounds."

"Thanks." He stood up and made his way into the saloon.

I rose to my own feet and watched as the town began dragging the bodies away. I briefly wondered what they were going to do with them before I heard Benny behind me from between the saloon and the general store again.

"That's something I can't dig."

For once I agreed with him. I didn't glance towards the ally, in case my brain had created an image of him standing there. Instead I turned and made my way towards the gas station, my heart still pounding in my chest from an overdose of adrenaline and emotion. None of this made sense to me, but I couldn't be around everyone else right now. This was my idea. It hadn't seemed like such a bad one at the time, but now… What had I done?

* * *

**I hope you guys liked it! As always, please review and let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4: Not My Kind of Town

**So, I managed to write something. Not sure how I feel about this chapter though. But it's finally time to say goodbye to Good Springs.**

**Thanks go to Tom-ato, of course. c:**

* * *

Everyone was so cheery that I just… I couldn't handle it. Hardly anyone had gotten hurt. Thankfully, when Trudy had woken up that morning, she had gone to the general store to run a few errands. She'd asked Chet if he'd seen me and if I'd gone with the idea to get leather armor for the town. He had, of course, said no. That was the night that I seen Benny in the alley way. I'd been on my way to talk to Chet and had been frightened off before I even got a chance.

Trudy, however, was able to get the armor from him. Only a few injuries were reported. Not all the Powder Gangers were armed with guns, as I vividly recalled. Less enemy bullets, less injuries on our side. Except that we all had guns. Of course we had won.

"Hey," Ringo called from the doorway. I had settled myself in a corner of the saloon. Everyone around me was getting drunk and just being happy about what had happy. "Are you going to join us? We're all celebrating. Why aren't you?"

I shrugged one shoulder, unsure if he even saw the gesture.

"Well?" Apparently he hadn't.

"Yeah," I grunted, pulling myself to my feet. "I'm coming." I was still in my armor. I felt a little cautious and I refused to take it off. Maybe I was being childish.

We walked into the open room of the saloon where a few people were dancing to the juke box. We stopped and leaned against the wall and shared an awkward silence. Finally, "Are you alright?"

I shrugged.

"You're an open book."

"Then read me. If you don't need to ask me…"

"You're clearly upset. Glum."

I shrugged. "Those men weren't even armed. They were people for crying out loud."

"You've never killed anyone before?"

"Fuck if I know." I was letting my temper taint my already sour attitude.

"Right. No memories. You know, sometimes it's hard to tell that you don't have any memories. You function so normally."

"Thanks," I mumbled, trying to calm myself down.

"Even though you've forgotten everything, you should still have the same attitudes, right? I mean, you're still the same person, right?"

I shrugged again.

"You don't seem like you've taken much damage from those bullets, you know. And I mean your head injury. Not the fight with the Powder Gangers."

I bit my lip.

Someone laughed loudly.

Trudy was holding a serving tray and upon seeing me smiled and held up a finger signaling that she wanted me to wait just a second. For what, I had no idea. Probably wanted to talk to me. She made her way back to the other room.

"You know," Ringo began in response to my uncertainties. "I don't think that it's just human nature. The Mojave does things to people. We're forced to defend ourselves and it's usually a fight to the death. People fight off monstrous beasts, overgrown bugs, and everything in between. All this fighting makes people desperate to survive. We are scarce on resources and so we do what comes naturally to us, we fight. We become greedy. It's always been human nature. Granted, when people were better off before the war, we didn't kill _as_ much."

"You're wrong. There were plenty of minor wars back then." Where had I learned that?

"Maybe you're right. But a lot more people survived."

"I guess then we're getting onto a better track…" Trudy had returned and handed me a drink.

"First round's on me," She announced. Then someone at a table nearby broke a glass. "Hey! You gotta pay for that!" She made her way to the table hurriedly.

I sighed, thankful for the distraction. I didn't actually feel like making small talk or talking about the fight.

"We are getting on a better track," Ringo continued. "There are still plenty of people dying, but look. We've got a whole town. In order to keep the good alive, the good have to kill. Those who aren't bettering themselves… Well, they fight, so we have to also. I know you're a good person. So, do me a favor. Keep fighting. And stay alive. Please." He reached over and grasped my hand in his own. His hands were rough and calloused. Mine were soft. Had I never done a hard day's work in my life? "There is a difference to killing and murdering however, and I know that you'll fight for all the right reasons. I don't need to worry about senseless killing with you." He offered me a wide smile.

Suddenly I was dripping wet and I felt a liquid seeping into my armor. I gasped. Someone had tripped and spilled their drink on me. I sat there in a few moments of shock, my heart pounding faster.

"What's the idea?" I spat.

The boy who'd spilled on me put his arms up, as if surrendering. "I'm sorry!"

I paused and suddenly let out a loud series of giggles.

The boy stared confused for a bit, then offered a few chuckles of his own.

I met Ringo's eyes and he was grinning at me. I grinned back.

"Thanks," I whispered, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. "I'll try to keep my head up, I guess." I gulped down my drink, tasting few drops of whatever had been spilled on me. "I'm going to reek of alcohol."

* * *

That night I walked myself to the gas station after showering at Doc Mitchell's. The night was cool and a light breeze tossed my wet hair about. I entered the gas station to find it completely dark. I turned on the lamp and looked around for Ringo. He wasn't here.

He most likely was still at the saloon. Maybe he'd found a pretty girl and… I shuddered at the idea. I wasn't sure why.

My head was pounding already. Doc said it was because I was drinking and then suddenly stopped. It had turned my mood sour, too. I sucked in a breath and attempted to get comfortable behind the counter.

That's when I noticed a piece of paper placed carefully on my pillow. I tucked myself under the blankets and noted Ringo's messy handwriting.

I stared at the words scrawled in front of me. He was gone. He'd left only this note as a good bye. He didn't want me to get even more upset, so he left for the Crimson Caravan and hoped that I would find him there sometime.

"You didn't want to upset me?!" I spat. Oh, I was definitely going to find him. I'd hunt him down and…

Suddenly I thought of Benny.

I froze.

I could… I could find him. He was still alive, as far as I knew. I pictured his face: the way he angled his head downward when he laughed rather than upward as anyone else would. My heart pounded faster. Out of fear or anticipation, I couldn't tell. I clenched the note and then fished out the delivery order for the platinum chip. Delivery six out of six, given to Courier Six based out of Primm…

My breath sped up.

_"Truth is, the game was rigged from the start."_

Something so simple had turned so dangerous. This was bigger than just me. I laid down and sucked in a breath, turning on my side and curling my legs up to my chest.

I thought about Benny for a long time. My mind drifted from him to Ringo and my life in Good Springs before sleep finally took me.

* * *

I dreamt of Benny again, as I expected. He had that strange way of talking and a different attitude than most people I'd met. He was intriguing. He made me laugh.

I woke up the next morning with a light headache. My throat felt dry and my freshly washed yet wet hair had twisted around my face. It was hot under my blankets as the sun had risen to warm the Mojave. I'd read somewhere that the Mojave was near the equator and that meant that it was summer all year 'round and it was naturally warmer than other places. I pressed my lips together. Why was I thinking about these things?

I pulled myself up and stood in place, a little dazed at first. I wasn't sure what to do. Ringo was gone. There was only me alone in this gas station. I'd be herding the Bighorners all day, shooting geckos. It was simple, and it was easy. But I couldn't stay when I had so many questions. I would definitely be back, but right now…

I began packing my things. Time to go.


End file.
